Harry Potter: The Muggle Crown Prince at Hogwarts
Chapter 446 He is a heretic
Fleur paused on the spot for a moment.
She realized something and stood up in shock.
She subconsciously avoided Allen's extended hand, glanced at the dead ocelot over there, finally breathed a sigh of relief, and then asked in a trembling voice, "Can I leave?"
The scene was silent for a while.
Allen paused and retracted his hand silently.
Maybe Fleur herself didn't know it, but she had subconsciously regarded him as a dangerous person.
He twitched the corners of his mouth, and took a step back with his hands behind his back like a gentleman, looking like a pale dummy.
His left wrist, which was tied behind his back and wrapped with a thin layer of gauze, was bleeding again, which made his eyes darken, but his years of crown prince demeanor allowed him to stand firm where he was.
He nodded politely and left, silently summoning the magic factor.
They gathered around Allen worriedly, almost forming an invisible wall, supporting the young man's pace.
Allen realized he had to end this game as quickly as possible.
At this point, he had to admit that since he poured his flesh and blood on the ominous book that night, he had been cursed by black magic.
...Which god will protect mortals who try to break through the magic of time and space?
Allen closed his eyes and smiled silently.
He is the crown prince.
He was also a vile heretic.
Since Allen had no intention of procrastinating any longer, the game went on extremely quickly.
He sensed the location of the Triwizard Cup, destroyed all the trees along the way, and arrived almost in a straight line.
But even this short straight line was a challenge for him who started to lose blood.
Allen held onto the magic wall beside him with one hand while trying to use the magic factor to block the injury on his left wrist.
However, as soon as the magic factor came into contact with the wound, it was immediately swallowed up by the wound, making the wound worse.
Allen had no choice but to tear off a piece of his clothes, clean it with magic and then wrap it around his upper arm, hoping to reduce the blood.
The blood along the way attracted many magical creatures.
There were bursts of restless animal sounds coming from the trees around him. The sounds were extremely sharp, as if they were the sounds of different animals mixed together, which made people's hair stand on end.
Alan paused and gasped softly.
He could only use Zeus to hide his magic power and let the magical creatures that had lost their targets scatter away.
However, in order to prevent anything else from happening in the final game, the top three tournaments specifically strengthened the monitoring of players' magic use.
As soon as he hid, the Ministry of Magic's magic sensors lost track of him.
Scrimgeour was a little embarrassed, and the assistant beside him hurriedly ran out and explained, "The license has not been used for too long, and some of the contacts have failed."
However, after debugging for a long time, Allen's magic power was still missing.
The other two's magic sources were still on.
There was a murmur from the audience.
Madame Maxime strode over and asked, "Do you have any spare machines? Albus, is Alan's illness recovered?"
Dumbledore looked serious and frowned tightly.
Everyone was concerned again, and Scrimgeour immediately ordered his assistant to go back to find a spare magic detector, fearing that the Muggle Crown Prince would do something earth-shattering again.
The little assistant ran to get it out of breath.
The arena was silent.
Draco stood up from the audience, walked to the stage with a frown, glanced at Dumbledore, and said softly, "Professor, the wound on His Highness's left wrist has not healed."
Dumbledore woke up suddenly and immediately looked towards the quiet maze.
...There are many magical creatures there, which are attracted to the smell of blood.
If Allen is not fully injured, he will easily be attacked by a large number of magical creatures!
But it shouldn't be...
If Allen is attacked, the magic detector will alert, and the Aurors will go to places where magic flashes to look for failed warriors. How could it be...
Just when the old principal was thinking this, the little assistant ran over panting and holding a spare instrument.
Everyone hurriedly replaced the magic detector. The moment the replacement was completed, the small light symbolizing Allen lit up.
At the same time, Allen, holding the Triwizard Cup in his right hand, appeared in front of everyone in the whirlpool of door keys.
The venue instantly erupted into enthusiastic cheers.
The cheerful music was played again.
Dumbledore breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that the detector was malfunctioning. He looked at Allen with relief and said loudly,
"We have competed for the championship - Mr. Alan Cornish has won the Triwizard Tournament and will receive a prize of 1000 Galleons! Let us congratulate him..."
Allen vaguely heard cheers of joy.
It was already dark before his eyes, and he leaned forward to salute in all directions purely based on instinct.
He raised his hand and felt a familiar person running over hastily and holding his trembling right arm.
Malfoy's perfume.
...It's Draco.
He held down the opponent's arm with confidence and left the venue pretending to talk and laugh. After feeling that he had entered a "tunnel", he couldn't hold on and passed out.
Draco was literally scared to death.
His face was originally pale, and now it was even more bloodless, almost comparable to Allen who had fallen over.
Fortunately, Dumbledore felt that something was wrong with Allen's state, so he patted Grindelwald and motioned for the former demon king to follow him.
The former Demon King had a sullen face, took the unconscious Crown Prince from Draco's hand, glanced at the poor little snake, and said,
"I'll take him to St. Mungo's, and you can control those wallflowers!"
Draco nodded repeatedly, looking worriedly at the bleeding wrist of the blond boy.
She realized something and stood up in shock.
She subconsciously avoided Allen's extended hand, glanced at the dead ocelot over there, finally breathed a sigh of relief, and then asked in a trembling voice, "Can I leave?"
The scene was silent for a while.
Allen paused and retracted his hand silently.
Maybe Fleur herself didn't know it, but she had subconsciously regarded him as a dangerous person.
He twitched the corners of his mouth, and took a step back with his hands behind his back like a gentleman, looking like a pale dummy.
His left wrist, which was tied behind his back and wrapped with a thin layer of gauze, was bleeding again, which made his eyes darken, but his years of crown prince demeanor allowed him to stand firm where he was.
He nodded politely and left, silently summoning the magic factor.
They gathered around Allen worriedly, almost forming an invisible wall, supporting the young man's pace.
Allen realized he had to end this game as quickly as possible.
At this point, he had to admit that since he poured his flesh and blood on the ominous book that night, he had been cursed by black magic.
...Which god will protect mortals who try to break through the magic of time and space?
Allen closed his eyes and smiled silently.
He is the crown prince.
He was also a vile heretic.
Since Allen had no intention of procrastinating any longer, the game went on extremely quickly.
He sensed the location of the Triwizard Cup, destroyed all the trees along the way, and arrived almost in a straight line.
But even this short straight line was a challenge for him who started to lose blood.
Allen held onto the magic wall beside him with one hand while trying to use the magic factor to block the injury on his left wrist.
However, as soon as the magic factor came into contact with the wound, it was immediately swallowed up by the wound, making the wound worse.
Allen had no choice but to tear off a piece of his clothes, clean it with magic and then wrap it around his upper arm, hoping to reduce the blood.
The blood along the way attracted many magical creatures.
There were bursts of restless animal sounds coming from the trees around him. The sounds were extremely sharp, as if they were the sounds of different animals mixed together, which made people's hair stand on end.
Alan paused and gasped softly.
He could only use Zeus to hide his magic power and let the magical creatures that had lost their targets scatter away.
However, in order to prevent anything else from happening in the final game, the top three tournaments specifically strengthened the monitoring of players' magic use.
As soon as he hid, the Ministry of Magic's magic sensors lost track of him.
Scrimgeour was a little embarrassed, and the assistant beside him hurriedly ran out and explained, "The license has not been used for too long, and some of the contacts have failed."
However, after debugging for a long time, Allen's magic power was still missing.
The other two's magic sources were still on.
There was a murmur from the audience.
Madame Maxime strode over and asked, "Do you have any spare machines? Albus, is Alan's illness recovered?"
Dumbledore looked serious and frowned tightly.
Everyone was concerned again, and Scrimgeour immediately ordered his assistant to go back to find a spare magic detector, fearing that the Muggle Crown Prince would do something earth-shattering again.
The little assistant ran to get it out of breath.
The arena was silent.
Draco stood up from the audience, walked to the stage with a frown, glanced at Dumbledore, and said softly, "Professor, the wound on His Highness's left wrist has not healed."
Dumbledore woke up suddenly and immediately looked towards the quiet maze.
...There are many magical creatures there, which are attracted to the smell of blood.
If Allen is not fully injured, he will easily be attacked by a large number of magical creatures!
But it shouldn't be...
If Allen is attacked, the magic detector will alert, and the Aurors will go to places where magic flashes to look for failed warriors. How could it be...
Just when the old principal was thinking this, the little assistant ran over panting and holding a spare instrument.
Everyone hurriedly replaced the magic detector. The moment the replacement was completed, the small light symbolizing Allen lit up.
At the same time, Allen, holding the Triwizard Cup in his right hand, appeared in front of everyone in the whirlpool of door keys.
The venue instantly erupted into enthusiastic cheers.
The cheerful music was played again.
Dumbledore breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that the detector was malfunctioning. He looked at Allen with relief and said loudly,
"We have competed for the championship - Mr. Alan Cornish has won the Triwizard Tournament and will receive a prize of 1000 Galleons! Let us congratulate him..."
Allen vaguely heard cheers of joy.
It was already dark before his eyes, and he leaned forward to salute in all directions purely based on instinct.
He raised his hand and felt a familiar person running over hastily and holding his trembling right arm.
Malfoy's perfume.
...It's Draco.
He held down the opponent's arm with confidence and left the venue pretending to talk and laugh. After feeling that he had entered a "tunnel", he couldn't hold on and passed out.
Draco was literally scared to death.
His face was originally pale, and now it was even more bloodless, almost comparable to Allen who had fallen over.
Fortunately, Dumbledore felt that something was wrong with Allen's state, so he patted Grindelwald and motioned for the former demon king to follow him.
The former Demon King had a sullen face, took the unconscious Crown Prince from Draco's hand, glanced at the poor little snake, and said,
"I'll take him to St. Mungo's, and you can control those wallflowers!"
Draco nodded repeatedly, looking worriedly at the bleeding wrist of the blond boy.
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